Morning
by 4luv4evr428
Summary: A companion piece/prequel to my piece, "A Night Out."


I.

Ricky walked into the dark apartment, exhausted both physically and emotionally. He walked into the bedroom and stood in the doorway for a few moments. Normally when he came home this late at night, his wife would be on her side of their bed. She'd either be waiting up for him or would be lightly sleeping, only to awaken if he made the slightest sound.

This night, the bed was empty, the comforter slightly wrinkled from where she'd been lying earlier that afternoon. He unbuttoned his shirt slowly, feeling that the room was uncommonly quiet. When his eyes fell on the crib in the corner, he smirked. He thought to himself that rather than lamenting the silence, he should embrace it. In a few days, it would undoubtedly be shattered by the new sound of his son's newborn cries in the night.

Ricky kicked off his shoes and collapsed tiredly onto the bed, the events of that day swirling busily through his mind. He looked up at the ceiling as it reflected the light from a car that was passing the bedroom window.

He closed his eyes, just for a minute, he thought, and he recalled his baby's little face and the swirls of dark hair atop his head.

II.

Ricky's arm moved unconsciously to the space where Lucy normally lay. Not feeling the familiar silhouette of her figure, his eyes snapped open, temporarily forgetting where she was and why. "Lucy?" He said her name out loud as he sat up and noticed that he was still in the slacks and unbuttoned shirt that he'd been wearing the day before.

He sighed as he remembered that she was in the hospital and he rubbed his face with his hand, feeling the rough shadow of his unshaven chin. The sounds of the traffic below the bedroom were noticeably louder and heavier than they were when he'd closed his eyes several hours before. The sun was streaming through the open curtains, but Ricky could tell that Fred must've lowered the heat in the building as soon as the first rays of light were visible, because the chill of the late January morning was evident. He made a mental note that he must have a word with him about that; he and Lucy had grown accustomed to being a little chilly in the winters and they had their ways of staying warm. But in a few days, he'd be bringing a small, delicate life into the apartment and he wanted some assurance that the infant wouldn't freeze.

Ricky stood up from the bed and removed his well-worn clothes, heading for the bathroom. He seemed to automatically pilot through his normal routine. He brushed his teeth while he ran the water in the shower, waiting for it to gradually warm up. He scowled when he held his hand under the streaming water to find it still running cool and turned back to the sink to shave. When he had finished, the water was finally warm and he stepped into the shower with a long sigh. He let the now steaming droplets cascade against his back as he leaned against the tile.

His thoughts seemed jumbled and uncertain. He had held his son only briefly in the hours after his birth before the hospital nurses ushered him home and away from his new family. He was looking forward to being able to spend the day getting to know the little one and to seeing his wife. But like most new fathers, he wondered at how their lives were never going to be the same.

As he leaned back into the water and it soaked through his hair, he remembered the occasions when Lucy would surprise him by appearing in the shower with him. He was certain it would be a while before that happened again, between the time it would take for her to physically recover from the pregnancy and the demands that the newborn would make on her. Their little boy was worth a bit of sexual frustration, he thought, but he couldn't help mourning lightheartedly over the lost spontaneity.

This led him to remember how, on those mornings, he would be startled by the sensation of her hands on his back and he'd turn to find her behind him, nude and dampened by the spray of the water. He would immediately take her into his arms, her breasts pressed against him as he kissed her.

As he remembered, his hand slipped around his growing erection. Not since the months before their marriage had he felt so full of tension that he needed to relieve himself. It had already been several weeks since he was able to make love to his wife and in anticipation of several more, at least, he had a feeling he'd be doing so again.

His imagination recreated the way her breasts felt in his hands and the way his lips formed around her nipples. He bit his lip as he remembered how slick and smooth her wet skin was. He groaned audibly as he strained to recall the way she wrapped her legs around him while he pressed her against the wet tiles. The movement of his hand quickened as the sound of her breathless repetition of his name echoed in his ears. His hand could never properly simulate the way it felt when he disappeared deep within her center, but it would have to do, he thought. After a few moments, during which he imagined that he was thrusting vigorously into her while she cried out for him, he groaned again in his own orgasm.

He opened his eyes slowly and watched the fruit of his efforts circle the bottom of the shower and disappear down the drain. He had achieved relief, but it was substantially less satisfying than the pleasure that she brought him, combined with the excitement he received from pleasing her and the knowledge that he was leaving the product of his love with her when his body left her.

As the water began to run cold again, Ricky finished showering and returned to his normal morning routine. He ran a comb through his wet hair and absently grabbed the clothes he planned to wear.

When he'd dressed, he walked through the living room and to the kitchen. He was met again with silence and the absence of the aroma of breakfast and percolating coffee.

Ricky turned around and left the kitchen. He looked around the apartment for a moment before leaving. Without Lucy, this was just a place to sleep.

III.

Ricky took a taxi toward the hospital, asking to be dropped off a couple of blocks away so he could get some breakfast at the corner drugstore.

He sat at the counter and a waitress immediately poured him a cup of coffee. "What'll you have?"

Ricky glanced at the menu card that sat on a holder in front of him. "Bacon and eggs, please."

The waitress nodded as she walked away toward the cook. Ricky looked out the window and smiled at the beautiful day and at the top of the hospital building that could be seen from his vantage point. He could hardly wait to see Lucy and the baby again. It took only a few lonely hours to realize that they were his whole life.

In just a few moments, his breakfast was in front of him and he ate it gratefully, only now remembering that he hadn't eaten since before he brought Lucy to the hospital the day before. He downed the coffee, not minding much that it was bitter and only a bit warm.

With renewed energy, he left some money on the counter and pulled the collar of his coat around his neck as he made his way outside again. He spotted a small florist across the street and skipped among the traffic to get to it.

When Ricky walked in, he was greeted by the bell on the door. The man behind the counter looked up at him. "Good morning," he stated cheerfully. "Cold one, isn't it?"

Ricky smiled. "Good mornin'. I need the most beautiful bouquet you've got."

The florist brightened, thinking of the cost of such a bouquet. He walked around the counter to a cooler full of flowers of assorted types and colors. "I've just gotten these stunning orchids," he gushed as he pulled the bunch of them from the cooler.

Ricky looked at them approvingly and smiled at their soft hues of white and lavender. He peeked back in the cooler and saw another bunch of gladiolas. They were a deep color of purple, but held a hint of blue. His smile broadened and he pointed to them. "Throw those in with the orchids and you've got a sale."

The florist's eyes widened. "Yes, sir!" He brought the flowers behind the counter and began to arrange them and wrap them in soft tissue as Ricky wrote diligently on a card.

Ricky paid handsomely for the flowers and left the shop to again face the frigid temperature of winter in New York. He walked briskly toward the hospital, again moving among the traffic as though it didn't exist.

When finally he entered the hospital lobby, the nurses at the desk looked up and reveled at the spray of glorious flowers in his arms. He smiled as they seemed to gather around and sniff at them happily, as though they were inhaling a wish for spring in the middle of the long winter.

He signed his name at the desk with a great flourish and eased away from the clutch of nurses as he headed for the elevator, the last leg of his morning's journey in sight.

IV.

When Ricky stepped off the elevator on the sixth floor, the faint sounds of babies crying surrounded him and he grinned. A maternity nurse was standing at a small desk nearby and she looked up at him. She smiled at the flowers and recognized him from the day before. "Go on ahead," she said quietly.

He walked toward the room where he'd left his wife and son the night before. The door was open just a crack and for reasons he couldn't identify, he hesitated to simply walk in unannounced. He knocked softly on the door and his heart leapt at the sound of Lucy's voice. "Come in," she responded gently.

Ricky pushed the door open slowly and smiled brightly when she came into view, sitting in bed with the small, dark-haired bundle in her arms.

Lucy looked up and returned his smile. "Good morning, honey," she greeted him as she rocked the baby. Her eyes took in the colorful flowers as he walked towards them. "Those are beautiful!"

He sat on the bed facing her and laid the flowers near her. "Good mornin', darlin'." He took her face into his hands and kissed her warmly, the feeling of her lips against his something he'd missed so deeply that morning. "How are you feelin'?"

"Just fine," she said simply.

Ricky looked down at the sleeping baby and grinned proudly.

As he touched the baby's cheek softly, Lucy began to hand the child to him. "Do you want to hold him?"

Ricky nodded and took the baby from her, still doing so a bit gingerly and nervously. As he felt the small figure's warmth wriggling in his arms, he smiled and his heart melted. He continued to watch the child's tiny breaths as Lucy ran her hands along the beautiful blooms he'd brought her.

She found the card nestled in the bouquet and lifted it out with a smile.

Without lifting his eyes from the baby's face, Ricky spoke to her softly. "I missed you when I woke up and you weren't there."

Lucy giggled. "I missed you, too. I woke up this morning and realized that our whole lives are different now."

He looked up at her and smiled knowingly before returning his gaze to his son.

She opened the card slowly and read it, tears dotting the corners of her eyes.

 _My gorgeous redhead,_

 _No flower or card could express how much I love you. But this will have to do until I can take you in my arms and make love to you again. Thank you for our precious son. For him and for so many other reasons, I am eternally-_

 _Your Latin loverboy_

The sun shined through the window in the hospital room as Ricky lifted her hand to his lips.


End file.
